


My Sister, the First

by InquisitorAllandra



Series: Inquisitor Allandra Lavellan [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InquisitorAllandra/pseuds/InquisitorAllandra
Summary: Lyora comes to the Inquisition to Aid her sister. (Response to the first Contact Clan Lavellan table quest.)
Series: Inquisitor Allandra Lavellan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/806526





	My Sister, the First

My Sister the First

  * Inquisitor Allandra



Notes: Usual disclaimer; Bioware owns all the important stuff. I’m just writing for funsies.

_Ferelden is cold._

_And wet._

_If it is not cold, it is raining. Then it is muddy, cold, and wet._

Allandra sighed as she stared at the small leather-bound book, she wrote in. It was one of the few treasures she had at Haven; a journal she had been given by her sister, Lyora, before she left for the Conclave. The small elf was currently in her hut in Haven, situated in the one chair in the building, at a roughly made but practical desk. Behind her sat her bed, which currently held a few packed saddlebags for travel. The word was there was plenty of work yet to be done in the Hinterlands.

“To write your adventures in,” she had said, with a wink and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. It was the last time she had seen her sister; pangs of loneliness gnawed at Allandra as she thought of Lyora. She could certainly use her tart advice now.

_Well_ , the elf thought _, it has certainly come in handy these past few…days?_ _Weeks, now. I certainly have had a lot to write about. The destruction of the Conclave, Cassandra’s accusations, becoming the…Herald of Andraste…_

She sat back, folding her arms behind her head as she made a face, wrinkling her nose and knitting her brows together. Gods, the title left a bad taste in her mouth every time it was uttered.

_I am Dalish! That they should think -I- would be sent by their Maker to…to save them from this…_

Allandra still did not know what to make of it, or what to do about it. If she refuted it, most found a way or a reason to believe it anyway – usually by her closing a rift – but she very well couldn’t bring herself to tell people she was something she did not believe herself to be.

At Allandra’s feet sat a large grey and white wolf, that for all intents and purposes looked to be asleep. The elf had just recovered her wolf-companion, who had been left to wander the woods during her ‘stay’ in Cassandra’s care.

Reaching down, Allandra scratched the wolf behind the ears, earning her a low, but pleased, rumble from the wolf.

“And what do you make of all this, eh Ath’laros?” Allandra muttered with a sigh. The wolf simply looked up at his mistress with deep yellow eyes, yawned loudly, and laid her head back down.

“Some help you are,” was Allandra’s amused reply.

Before she could muse aloud any further, a loud, frantic rapping at the door drew the Herald’s attention. The knocking did not subside but grew more urgent as Allandra took the few steps to open the door. On the other side stood the young servant girl who seemed to have been assigned to see to the Herald’s needs. She bowed, and stayed that way as she spoke, ginger red hair bobbing as she did.

“Your Worship! Lady Cassandra sent me to fetch you to the gate!” The young, excitable servant declared. “At once, she said!”

“All right – is it time to leave already?” Allandra sounded confused, turning to eye Taenya, and then her bags.

There was a vigorous shaking of the servant’s head. “No, your worship. But it is quite a commotion.”

Much as she tried, Allandra could not get the young servant – what was her name? – to refer to her as anything other than ‘Your Worship’ or ‘My Lady Herald’.

“Thank you, Eletha. I’m on my way.” Allandra dismissed the young servant girl with a small smile, waiting until she had backed away to close to door. It still made her uncomfortable to have another elf- even if she was city-born and used to it – serve her. Or to have a servant at all, really.

Grabbing her heavy leather coat, the Herald of Andraste slipped it on while pondering what could possibly be so urgent and exciting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~

A most unexpected surprise awaited Allandra at the gates of Haven. Just outside and a few feet away, a large crowd – most of Haven, it seemed – had gathered around a group of newcomers. Allandra could just barely see above the heads of those gathered what looked to be several Hart favored by the People. There were five Hart, but only four Dalish-marked elves.

Excitement welled up to bursting through the Herald as she recognized the most distinctive elf that sat at the front of the group.

“Lyora!” She cried; the crowd split upon realizing the Herald was pushing her way through to the center. The elf in question, a tall, willowy woman with white hair, icy blue eyes, and the mark of Dirthamen, smiled down to the brown-haired sister as she dismounted her Hart.

The elder sister easily closed the gap, embracing the Herald of Andraste. Lyora stood easily a head taller than Allandra, dressed warmly for travel in good sturdy leathers, tooled and decorated in elvish design. A staff strapped to the Hart she had been mounted on marked her for a mage. Both sisters were smiling and laughing in greeting.

“You know her?” Cassandra’s accented voice cut through the noise of the crowd; the Seeker warily eyed Lyora and her entourage. She had made her way through the crowd to stand near Allandra. Behind her stood Cullen and Josephine. Josephine must have JUST arrived, but somehow did not look flustered at all.

“Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine – this is my sister, Lyora. First of Clan Lavellan. _Muinthel_ , this is Seeker Cassandra, Commander Cullen, and Josephine, our ambassador.” Allandra waved to each one as she named them.

Cassandra and Cullen both nodded their greetings, Josephine dipped a polite curtsey, smiling warmly.

“Andaran atish’an, Lady Lavellan. Welcome to Haven.” Josephine replied.

Lyora quirked a brow but gave a bow of her own from the waist. “Andaran atish’an, Lady Josephine. And I thank you.”

As greetings were exchanged, the small entourage of four that were with Lyora dismounted and began pulling down their packs.

“What are you doing here, Lyora? You should be with the Clan—”  
“The Keeper sent me to you. We received your message,” Lyora began, voice cool and collected, “and thought it best that you have someone with you. Another to give a voice to the People in these…dark times.”

“She has been as safe as we can make her,” Cassandra retorted, making a noise of disgust. “We have needed her to close the rifts and will need her to close the Breach.”

Lyora eyed the Seeker. “So, I see. Nonetheless, it was thought that having a familiar face amongst strangers would be a comfort, not to mention useful. Once this business is done, I intend to see my little sister home.”

Cassandra simply made another grunt and shrugged. “As you wish.”

Josephine piped up then, to keep things from getting out of hand. “Will your entourage be staying as well? Come, we will find you quarters to rest and refresh.” The ambassador glanced to Allandra, who nodded her thanks.

“No, they will not be staying – well, they will stay the night, as it pleases you, to rest before setting back to the clan.” Lyora responded, turning to retrieve her saddlebags and staff. “But before we go,” from one of the bags she pulled a roll of parchment, handing it to Allandra.

“From the Keeper. This, as well.” She motioned to the hart that had been rider less. “We did not know if you had a proper mount, so it was thought we should bring you one. A gift of goodwill, from Clan Lavellan to the Herald of Andraste.” The title came out in a rather neutral tone; Allandra could tell it was distasteful to her sister.

One of the escorts brought the hart forward at a gesture, stopping before the Herald. Allandra grinned, reaching for the lead as a gloved hand stopped an inch or so from the beast’s nose. It huffed, butting its nose against the offered hand in greeting. “Oh, aren’t you a beauty.”

As Allandra admired the hart, Josephine led Lyora and her company in to Haven proper. “Come, you look tired from your travels.”

The crowd had been dispersing, leaving mostly Allandra’s companions behind as some stable boys led the other Harts away.

Cullen stepped up next to Allandra. “You never mentioned you had a sister. Or that she was a mage.” The tone wasn’t accusatory, but simply stating facts.

“Is that a problem?”

Cullen shook his head. “No, its --- no, its not a problem, Herald. Simply a surprise.”

Allandra nodded slowly, petting the Hart. “I was not expecting such an answer to our contact of my clan. Had I known she would come; I would have warned you.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, looking around before looking back to Allandra. “You are growing quite a collection of mounts. First the mare, now the hart.” He smiled slightly as he watched the elf.

Allandra smiled in turn at the easy change of subject. “Yes, she’s magnificent.” The pair began to walk towards the stables, where she could see Master Dennet waiting. “A shame Lyora did not bring a halla; I would have liked to have let Master Dennet ride one, if it would let him.”

“I’m sure he would enjoy that.”

“He would.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The trip to the Hinterlands was delayed a day or so, to allow time for Lyora to settle in. Whether the advisors wanted her there or not, the elder sister was there to stay.

Lyora found her sister again in her small hut, not bothering to knock when she entered. Allandra did not mind, not really. She had nothing to hide from her sister. Ath’laros wagged her tail, trotting over to Lyora and thrusting her cold, wet nose into the hand of the First in greeting. Lyora responded with a laugh and a pat on the wolf’s head.

“It should be no surprise that we were worried when we received word of the…Conclave.” Lyora began, eyes roaming around the small quarters. “We had no idea if you were alive or dead, or what had become of you.”

Allandra winced. “We sent word as soon as we could, to let you know I was well and alive.”

“Yes, and with the only means of closing these rifts. I had the misfortune of seeing one or two on the way. They are disturbing, to say the least.” Lyora retorted. “Still, it was a relief to hear of you. Your councilors still seem unsure what to do with you.”

“They are not my councilors. I work with them to solve this.”

Lyora quirked a brow again, head tilted. “Really? They seemed to look to you for answers. I met the other one – Leliana – on the way in through Haven. You should watch that one.” The white-haired elf made her way to the bed, perching herself on the corner.

Allandra joined her, sitting next to her sister. “You worry to much. As…rough as the start of this was, I’ve come to trust them. They simply want to restore the world to order and seal the Breach. Have you seen it yet?”

“You are to trusting. No, I have not seen it yet. I would like to, before we leave.” Lyora gestured to the packed saddlebags. “Where are we going?”

“-I- am going to the Hinterlands, to take care of some loose ends. I do not expect you to go, sister.”

“And yet I will. I mean to keep an eye on you, and see what this Inquisition is about, firsthand.” There was a nod and a folding of arms; the elder sister had made up her mind on the matter.

Allandra simply sighed, she knew her sister would have her way. “Very well.” She smirked, eyes dancing in amusement. “It’s a shame you missed Val Royeaux – they are so strange! They wear masks to cover their faces, and the clothes! Sister, one woman wore more silk in one dress than I have ever seen!”

The two talked long into the night, simply taking the time to catch up.

~Fin~

_Muinthel_ – sister (snitched from Tolkien elvish)

Andaran atish’an – elvish greeting


End file.
